


Is This More Than You Bargained For Yet

by lincyclopedia



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - College/University, Autistic Character, Autistic Simon Snow, Fluff, M/M, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lincyclopedia/pseuds/lincyclopedia
Summary: Simon and Baz are taking an intro-level psych course to fill out a ed requirement, but the lecture on autism teaches Simon more than he planned on learning. Luckily, Baz reacts well.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68
Collections: Snowbaz Sweethearts Fic Exchange 2021





	Is This More Than You Bargained For Yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [one_more_offbeat_anthem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_more_offbeat_anthem/gifts).



> Thanks [OrSaiKellieLonore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrSaiKellieLonore/pseuds/OrSaiKellieLonore) for the beta! Emmy, I hope you like this! Oh, and a general note to everyone reading this: I'm autistic and I tried to write Simon in a way that's authentic to my experiences, so please don't criticize me for my portrayal of autism.

It’s midway through the semester and Simon is fully confident that taking Intro to Psych with Baz as a way to take care of a gen ed requirement was the right decision. They’re both juniors at Watford University and they’ve been dating for about a year, having gotten off on the wrong foot their first year before getting their heads on straight (or gay, rather) sophomore year and realizing they only paid so much attention to each other’s negative qualities because they were both trying (unsuccessfully) to avoid falling for one another. Once they both realized that the other was interested, starting a relationship was fairly simple, and these days Simon doesn’t know what he’d do without Baz by his side. Literally by his side, in this class—unlike in high school, most of his college professors haven’t made seating charts, and given the choice Simon and Baz will definitely sit together. 

The topic of today’s lecture is autism. Simon doesn’t know much about autism, but that’s par for the course with this class—he’s a math major, not a psych major, and he didn’t know much of anything about bipolar disorder or borderline personality disorder or just about any of the other conditions they’ve studied throughout the semester. He’s planning on keeping his head down, taking notes, and letting Baz ask any questions that need to be asked, mostly because, by the time Simon has fully understood what the professor has said, the professor has already moved on to the next point, whereas Baz seems to grasp things fast enough to actually ask questions while they’re still relevant and welcome. 

And then the lecture starts, and it’s basically like handing Simon a mirror. 

Autistic people have trouble with nonverbal communication—they may or may not be able to read body language or facial expressions, and they may or may not use those aspects of communication themselves, either. They also have trouble with eye contact. Autistic people also struggle with verbal communication; they may be nonverbal or become nonverbal when upset or stressed. Even those who are verbal may miss subtlety and struggle with tact. Additionally, autistic people sometimes have a slow processing speed, especially when dealing with verbal input. 

Simon thinks about not being able to tell when Penny or Baz is frustrated with him. He thinks about never being able to look people in the eye, no matter how hard his teachers or the adults at the foster homes tried to force him to. He thinks about not being able to talk when he’s really upset. He thinks about frequently saying the wrong thing even when he’s trying hard to be polite. He thinks about the fact that he can’t ask questions in class because his processing speed is too slow for that. 

Autistic people tend to have restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior. They tend to have restricted interests, obsessing over one or two things or topics to the exclusion of everything else. Autistic people tend to need routines and deal badly with change. They also tend to engage in the same behaviors over and over again, sometimes without realizing it, in order to regulate their emotions. 

Simon thinks about how he usually hates gen ed classes because he’s just not interested in subjects that aren’t math or fencing. He thinks about how his entire morning is ruined if he wakes up too late to shower and brush his teeth before class. He thinks about how he uncaps and recaps his pens over and over, sometimes for an entire class period, and how doing that helps him focus and sometimes even calms him down when he’s frustrated. 

Autistic people tend to struggle with theory of mind—that is, with the notion that other people have different thoughts, values, opinions, and priorities than they themselves have. This often leads to taking people at their word because they don’t consider why someone might be lying, and it can also lead to not understanding where other people are coming from. 

Simon thinks about how confused he is when Baz talks about not liking math or Penny talks about not being interested in fencing. He thinks about how easy it was for people to trick him in middle school and high school, before he had Baz and Penny. He thinks about how baffled and frustrated he gets during arguments, because it makes no sense that someone would take a different position than the one he’s taking. 

Autistic people tend to have splinter skills—that is, they tend to be extremely good at some things and extremely bad at other things, while neurotypical people tend to have more middling skills in more areas. 

Simon thinks about having been the only junior at his high school to take Calc II and how his guidance counselor had never seen someone top out like that before. He thinks about how he’s so bad at foreign languages that he had to repeat French Three twice. He thinks about how he’s Watford University’s best fencer and how he also struggles with reading comprehension. 

Autistic people often struggle with executive functioning: strategizing, organizing, working memory, attention, decision-making, and inhibition control. They tend to procrastinate and have trouble with time management. 

Simon thinks about always doing his homework the night before it’s due, or even in the morning right before class. He thinks about how hard it is to break writing a paper down into all the steps it’s actually going to take. He thinks about how his room is always a complete disaster no matter how much Baz and Penny sigh at him to clean it up. He thinks about how it’s hard to pay attention in class a lot of the time, and trying to pay attention to his readings or homework is even harder. He thinks about how decisions are so hard for him that Baz is permanently in charge of deciding where to go for dates. 

There are eight senses: sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell, vestibular (balance/movement), proprioceptive (body position/pressure), and interoception (hunger, heat, cold, fatigue, etc.). Autistic people tend to have trouble with sensory processing and might crave more or less stimulation in any of these senses than other people. 

Simon thinks about how hard it is for him to be around loud noises or strobe lights. He thinks about how so many foods taste gross to him and how strong scents are overwhelming. He thinks about throwing himself into fencing matches because the movement feels so good. He thinks about how hard it is for him to notice whether he’s hot or cold. 

Class ends and Baz puts his notebook away before turning to Simon. “Ready to go, love?” 

Simon doesn’t respond. 

“Simon? Are you okay?” 

Simon forces words to happen. “Baz. I fit every single one of those criteria.” 

“ _Oh_. Do you want to put your notebook and pencil away so we can talk about this somewhere else?” Baz asks. 

Simon looks down and realizes that, indeed, his notebook and pencil are still on the table in front of him. “Sure,” he says. 

When Simon has packed up his things, Baz takes his hand and leads him out of the classroom. The two of them walk quietly all the way back to the off-campus two-bedroom apartment that Baz, Simon, and Penny share, which is several blocks away. Once inside, they sit down on the couch and Baz says, “So, do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” says Simon, “but I think it would be better if I did than if I didn’t.”

“Okay,” says Baz.

Simon gets out his notebook and flips to the pages with today’s notes. “So, okay.” He goes through, symptom by symptom, and explains how each of them shows up in his life. He glances occasionally at Baz, whose face seems to be doing . . . something. Simon has no idea what Baz’s expression means, but that’s the same as usual. 

When Simon’s done, Baz says, “Wow. Okay.” 

“Baz, are you—does this affect anything?”

“Well, I think I have some research to do.” 

“No, I mean, do you still want to be with me?” Simon’s hands are grasping at each other, twisting in his lap.

“Simon, what do you mean?”

“Well, I’m realizing, when I put all of this together, that I’m a lot less normal than I thought, and I’m sure that being with me is a lot, especially with all of this, and—”

“ _Simon_. I love you. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to, all right? This doesn’t change anything; it just gives us better information about who you are and what you need.”

Simon shoves his face into Baz’s shoulder. “Thank you.” 

Baz rubs gently up and down Simon’s back. “Just trying to be a decent boyfriend, love.” 

“You’re better than decent, always,” says Simon. 

“If you say so,” says Baz. “Do you think you want to, like, see if you could get an autism diagnosis? I’m not really sure what all goes into that, but I bet I could help you figure it out. If you want.” 

“Maybe later,” says Simon. “My brain is really full right now and I just want to not think.” 

Baz kisses the side of Simon’s neck experimentally. “Oh, you want to not think?”

“Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch!” Simon laughs. 

Baz pulls back a bit. “Sorry, do you not want that?”

Simon sighs. “We can kiss—that would be nice, actually—but I’m not really in the mood to take it further than that right now.” 

“Got it,” says Baz, leaning in to capture Simon’s lips with his own. 

They’re interrupted perhaps 20 minutes later by Simon’s stomach growling. 

“Wow,” says Baz. “It’s not even 11:30. Does your body seriously think it’s lunchtime?”

Simon shrugs. “I guess. Am I ever not hungry? That’s the real question.”

Baz rolls his eyes but stands and kisses the top of Simon’s head. “Fair. I’ll make us some lunch.” 

Simon starts to stand too, saying, “I can help—”

Baz shakes his head. “Love, we both know you enjoy eating far more than you enjoy cooking. You’ve had a stressful morning. Let me do something nice for you, okay?”

Simon lowers himself back onto the couch. “Okay.” 

Simon scrolls around on his phone for an indeterminate amount of time, lulled by the background noise of Baz clattering around in the kitchen. Eventually, Baz calls, “Lunch is ready, love!” 

It’s just fried eggs on bagels, with some fruit cut up on the side, but it’s more of a proper meal than Simon would be likely to put together for himself for lunch on a weekday. “Thanks, Baz,” he says, giving Baz a peck on the lips before taking a seat. 

Baz smiles. “You’re welcome.”


End file.
